


Caution

by DPPatricks



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:22:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24442045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DPPatricks/pseuds/DPPatricks
Summary: An important conversation on Memorial Day, 1979
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	Caution

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by the Starsky&Hutch The Original Bromance FaceBook page’s fiction challenge in late May, 2020. The prompts were six phrases making use of various forms of ‘caution’. I chose three and have underlined them, below. Thanks, Nancy!

I was drifting again, submerged in the blissful backwater of heavy pain medication. I wasn’t able, yet, to keep track of time, nor could I deliberately surface from the sweet relief the meds provided from the agony my chest and back radiated whenever the injections wore off. That happened all too often, so I was content, for the time being, not to fight whatever the doctors had ordered. 

Ordinarily, I hated needles but, since these went into the IV tubes, not my arm, I was more than happy to accept the oblivion they offered. It was better than the deep, dark place I’d been. That place I knew, instinctively, was ‘dead.’ 

Yep, I was pretty sure I’d died. At least for a while. And I knew why. I’d been shot. Hutch and I had walked to opposite sides of the Torino, in the police garage, before my partner yelled, “Starsky, get down!” I had spun and seen the rapidly approaching black-and-white, noted the muzzle of an automatic rifle sticking out the passenger window, and had made the split-second decision not to do as Hutch said. I went for my gun, instead, and took the slugs.

I’d been afraid Hutch had been hit, too, but, gradually, with my senses returning during the following who-knew-how-many-days, I began to hear my best friend’s voice among those that constantly seemed to surround me. Doctors, nurses, interns, orderlies, and Hutch. 

Dobey was undoubtedly around, and maybe Huggy, but my touchstone, my anchor was Hutch. 

I didn’t know how, but didn’t question the truth of Hutch’s mind having found me in the dark place, and then urging me to come back - pleading with me not to leave. I’d never known Hutch to be in such emotional pain - not when Van, or even Gillian had died. The closest I could remember was when I’d been poisoned. Hutch had been my rock and we’d made it through. Now, I suddenly realized, if I hadn’t come back, Hutch might not have made it, either. That was something I couldn’t even think about. Hutch _had_ to live. Therefore, I had to live. No other choice. 

“We’re cautiously optimistic, Detective Hutchinson.” This voice, I knew, belonged to one of my doctors. It was always no-nonsense and authoritative, but also kind. It was a voice I liked.

“Please, Doctor, call me Hutch. Or Ken. Detective Hutchinson has too many syllables.” _That_ was the voice I was longing to hear. 

“Very well, then… Hutch. I told your captain, when he called this morning, I and my colleagues are truly impressed. Your partner has shown amazing resilience and determination. I doubt that a single one of us would have believed that, only twelve days after the shooting, you and I would be having this conversation.”

I tried to open my eyes but couldn’t quite manage it. Instead, I listened to the softness of Hutch’s voice when he replied, “That's understandable, Doc. Very few people comprehend just how hard-headed Starsky can be.” 

I smiled inside. _Hard-headed’s right, buddy. I ain’t leavin’ ya. Not now. Not when I think I finally understand what we mean to each other._

“Well,” the doctor continued, “the hospital is functioning with a reduced staff today, since we like to give as many of our people who have families the day off, and we’ll be expecting you to keep my patient quiet and resting. If he wakens before his next medication is due, please give him my sincere congratulations. He made it to Memorial Day, which none of us thought was possible, and I fully expect to see his smiling face every day until we can release him.”

Hutch chuckled. “I’ll tell him, Doctor. Thanks!”

“I’ve left word at the nurses’ station that you are not to be disturbed unless you need to summon help. Lunch will be brought for both of you at the usual time and I’ll hope you can encourage Detective Starsky to --”

“He’ll want you to call him, Dave.”

“He will?” 

“Pretty sure.”

“Such familiarity is against my normal policy. However, since this case bears no resemblance to normal, I’ll acquiesce. Please try to coax Dave to eat as much as possible. It may not be what he’d like to have at a Memorial Day picnic, since it will be comprised of no solid food, but it will be what he needs.”

“I’ll do my best, Doc. And thanks, again!”

“My pleasure, Detec… uh, Hutch.”

The sound of soft-soled shoes crossed the room, the door was opened and then quietly closed. 

“The race is about to start. You ready to wake up yet, Starsk?”

I heard Hutch turn the TV on and change channels until an announcer’s voice poured into the room in mid-description of the massive number of people jamming the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. Hutch lowered the volume and came back to the bed.

“Record crowd, huh?” I muttered.

Chair legs scraped across the floor and by the time I pried my eyes open, Hutch was sitting close to the bed. I lifted the fingers of my left hand and, almost immediately, he grabbed them and held on tight.

“Mears is on the pole, right?” I was a fan of Rick Mears and had been hoping this year’s race might produce his first 500 victory. After all, he’d won the pole - his first at Indy - with an impressive four laps early in the month, and I thought he might just be able to carry that through to the checkered flag.

“Yes, he is. But Foyt’s always a threat.”

I tried to shake my head and think I managed to turn it slightly. “Time for new blood at the brickyard, Hutch. Mark my words, it’s Mears’s day.”

“We’ll see.”

I must have drifted off again because, the next thing I knew, the cars were parading around the track slowly, maneuvering through the site of a crash on the backstretch. Wheels and tie rods, pieces of front and rear wings, with their support struts still attached, were scattered from the infield grass to the outside wall. None of the drivers’ compartments appeared to be damaged too badly, though, so hopefully no one had been killed. Track crews were well into the cleanup process. 

“What’s the pace car doing on the track?” I asked.

If Hutch was surprised that I was awake and making sense, he didn’t show it. “New policy. Whenever there’s a caution flag, the pace car comes out and leads the pack around until they’re ready to throw the green again.”

“Hmmmmm. That’s a good idea. Keep those speed demons from goin’ too fast through the debris. Wonder why nobody thought of it before now?”

“You know how it goes, partner. Good ideas are often more difficult to institute than bad ones.”

“Ain’t that the truth?”

He stood up, ran the fingers of his right hand gently through my hair and studied my eyes, probably trying to gauge if I was in pain. “You okay? Need anything?”

“I need to talk to you. Put the rail down and sit next to me. Please?”

Clearly, he didn’t like the idea. “My weight might shift the mattress, Starsk. It could hurt you and your next injection isn’t for…” He checked his watch. “Two more hours. Let’s not take the chance.” He sat down and picked up my hand again. “Whatever you have to say, I’m right here.”

“Nope.” I was determined. “Not close enough.” I attempted to tug on his fingers and I guess he got the message because he lowered the rail and carefully seated himself next to my hip. “Good,” I said, showing him that the movement hadn’t caused me any discomfort. 

“Good,” I repeated. “We’ve known each other a long time, Hutch. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. The best one I can ever hope to have. I love you.”

“I love you, too, you big dummy.”

I shook my head again and, this time, I was able to move it significantly. “More. Different. Not like a brother, or my best friend in the whole world.” I squeezed his fingers. “You wouldn’t let me go. You brought me back so that we could go on, together. And I want that. I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life!”

I had to pause and he waited, patiently. I almost had the feeling he’d stopped breathing. His fingers tightened on mine.

The announcer’s voice got louder as he called the re-start but I no longer cared what was happening in Indiana. I latched onto Hutch’s intense gaze and bored in. “I’m throwin’ caution to the winds, Hutch. I came back so that we could be together. Understand? _Together_ together. I’m in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Screw the brass and Internal Affairs.”

The smile that bloomed on my partner’s face was the most beautiful I’d ever seen. “No, thanks. They’re not my type.” He leaned forward, until his gorgeous lips were inches from my own. “You are.”

As a first kiss, it was too gentle and tentative to be mind-blowing. But it was as wonderful a start to our new relationship as I could have hoped.

END

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Starsky was right: Mears won, A.J. Foyt was second.


End file.
